Of Cards And Knives
by BabeRkins
Summary: For the last 8 years of Joker's stay at Arkham Asylum, Hans Aristov was his personal doctor. Sadly, the good doctor was found dead in his estate. Coincidence or murder? Batman must now prevent Hans Aristov's daughter from getting her hands on Joker.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Don't own _Batman_ or any rights to it.

This is my first shot at a Batman Fic. Up for and opened to constructed criticism and reviews. Fair warning, I love emphasizing on details; so this first chapter is long. Also, this story depends much on character development, so chapters following this may be long too. ;) Enjoy. Thanks.

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Dawn broke through the window; a blanket of subtle light began to rise within his master bathroom. He carefully removed the lycra fabric from his torso, being wary of his bruise that covered much of his right shoulder blade. With his other hand he gently rolled the sponge like material off his wound. The vigilante was sore to say the least, but this had become a regular ritual for him. Thankfully his body had adapted to its consistent abuse. Even the sting he felt under his eye would heal quickly.

He leaned over to the knobs of his shower and twisted the 'H' handle as far as it would go. The water sprung forth out of the nozzle above his head, almost instantaneously the room was coated in a layer of steam. By this time, he had completely slipped himself out of his thin garment, let it fall to the floor and stepped into the shower closing the doors behind him. Facing the shower head, his hands found the marble tile of the shower wall. Black Yule marble, an expensive commodity. Expensive but classic. He was far from a simple man but enjoyed the simple tastes.  
His head dangled under the water, enjoying the raw sting of the temperature and endured the assault of drops on his head and neck; trickling down his bare skin. He closed his eyes for a moment to assess his body's condition. Batman may assume the glory for being Gotham's knight… But Bruce Wayne always takes the beatings.

_ Nothing I can't handle _He mused opening his eyes. He gazed down at his length, how long had it been since he bedded a woman? It was mid-summer, July 9th to be exact.

He rolled his eyes in disgust, _Three weeks_. His body ached. He ached to be touched, kissed from something other than a thug's fist or crowbar. He may be Batman, savior of the night and the Prince of Gotham; but he was also a man, he had needs. Perhaps he would have Alfred call up Erin or Natasha. Two amateur models believing they are 'up and coming' in the business. Surely being seen with Bruce Wayne would push their applications to the top of the pile.

His thoughts weighed the two ladies, both had qualities that amused and aroused him.

_ Hmm… Both. _A devilish smile crept across Bruce's face.

Abruptly he squeezed the handle to the shower down and the water stopped. He ran both hands through his soaked hair, releasing any loose droplets.

"Master Bruce?" A voice came from just beyond the bathroom door.

"Yes Alfred. Come in." Bruce replied stepping out of the shower grabbing a towel from the wall.

Not two seconds later, a slender man was in the doorway holding a tray. A clear glass of water and a bottle of pills, he held them out to Bruce. Coming in from the Batcave, the Butler had noticed 'Batman' had come in slouching slightly and bleeding from the cheek.

"Sir, Asprin for you." He replied.

With two quick strides Bruce was before the elderly servant, shaking out three small tablets into his palm, "Thanks Alfred." He threw his head back and took all three in with one gulp of water.

Alfred spoke once more, "Master Bruce, would you prefer to have your daily protein beverage before bed?"

"Please." He responded.

"Very good sir, it is waiting on your bedside."

Bruce smiled, turning to step through into his bedroom, "Thank you, Alfred." The butler did not disappoint, he could see the green swamp like beverage on his bedside table. Still cold and fresh, he could guarantee it.

Bruce made his way to his dresser, picking a simple white tee from the middle drawer and a pair of undergarments from the top.  
"Alfred, what's the time?"

Alfred slid his black sleeve up from his wrist and took a glance at his **Thomas Pen. Co. **accessory, "Five o' one sir."  
Alfred was at one of Bruce's cabinets a moment later, with one quick motion he flipped out the wood panel. With a quick, _'click'_ the piece was locked into place, revealing a large 42" television.

He pushed the 'on' button, a bold _**GN 9**_symbol flashed across the screen.

_"Good morning Gotham!" _A sleek young man appeared on the screen, his light auburn hair gelled back. With a pause his middle finger propped his glasses on his nose, _"This is Jack Ryder, and you're watching Gotham News on channel 9."_

The camera flipped to the blonde woman beside him, she gave a warm 'sell it to em' smile before she spoke, _"And this is Kourtney Bell, thanks for waking up with us Gotham." _She turned to her co-anchor, _"Exciting news this morning right Jack?"  
_ _"Yes Mrs. Bell, news of the vigilante, Batman, striking again late last night…"_

Bruce smiled at the mention of of his alter- ego.

_"…Seven-teen suspects have been arrested, with a range of charges; armed robbery, assault, murder and grand arson. Based on eye witness testimony, the gang was in a territory dispute. Gotham PD has released a statement, claiming this dispute was between members of Two-Face and The Joker. Notorious criminals here in Gotham. The official head count was 6 members of Two-Face and 11 of The Joker."_

"Yes Jack, thankfully Batman arrived and with the assistance of Gotham's finest, took down these criminals before more innocent civilians were injured."

The Blonde reported.  
_  
"Indeed. And as a Gotham News 9 exclusive, we have received amateur footage of Batman's assault." _Jack transitioned to the next clip.

The video was obviously taken from an on-lookers cell phone, shaky and the audio was barely audible. Alfred watched as they cued the short clip of the masked crusader beating down on the thugs.  
"Ah. That explains the bruise then." He replied as he watched a thug come up behind Batman with a crowbar, slamming it into his back. From the clip it was an obvious cheap shot, Batman had another thug by the throat as one from the opposing-g side got him.

"It's really nothing." Bruce said sternly, attempting to assure his butler.

"Right sir." Alfred replied, one brow lifted slightly, "Is there anything else I can get you sir before you call it a day?"

"Yes, give Miss Rouche' a call. See if she would accompany me to dinner tonight."

"Of course sir. I shall make a reservation for two, at Cexxas' Steak at seven?"

"Make it Shay Ce' La, at six. We will pick her up at five-forty five."

"Yes sir." Alfred bowed to take his leave, "Your _other _suit shall be prepared for your return at nine."

_"In other news, beloved, famed Arkham psychologist, Hans Aristov passed away early this morning at the age of 51. His daughter is planning to make a statement later this afternoon. We'll be live at the Aristov estate…"_

"Arkham?" Bruce gaped. His interest peaked, "Aristov… Hans. Alfred."

"Yes Master Bruce. That name should ring a bell." Alfred replied grimly, "Every time you delivered _that_ mad man, and locked him back into Arkham. Hans Aristov was _that _lunatic's _personal_doctor."

Bruce sat on the edge of his bed, pensive. His hands locked, knuckles laced together. _51 is an early age for the death of a renowned physician. Couldn't be coincidental. Not when he slammed many of HIS men into custody the same day._

Alfred let Bruce Wayne brood for a moment then spoke, "His profile, and any information on Hans Aristov will be found on your desk by the time you awake, Master Bruce."

They caught eye contact and the Prince nodded, "Thank you Alfred." Alfred strode through the doorway and closed its doors behind him. Making his way to the Batcave, to fulfill his recent promise.  
Bruce sat for a moment longer before colliding his whole body to the bed, _Perhaps after tonight's entertainment, he would go entertain a certain cell block in Arkham. _  
The sun continued to rise through the window, it was time he rest. Bats are nocturnal after all.  
_Tomorrow night. Natasha Rouche'. Then…_

**_Joker._**


	2. Chapter 2

Another long-ish chapter, in exciting news after this chapter the story picks up. ;) Warning however, this story is M for mature (Not for kiddos) it includes crude language, sexual content and/or sexual references. Thanks.

Chapter 2

Street lights strobe along the Batmobile as it zoomed by. Bruce Wayne, Batman gripped the stick shift tightly as he lurched it into third. His boot pressed sternly on the gas pedal. The tigress growled in response. The speed limit on the out skirts of Gotham was 35, his speedometer read 60. As Batman, he pushed limits, it aroused a deep part of him. A side that even his beloved butler hadn't seen.  
_But Natasha... oh… _She had been one of the 'lucky' few to experience that part of him. He grinned under his mask. _She may be sore… Best to call Erin next time…_

"Master Bruce." Abruptly, Alfred's voice came from the vehicles navigation.

Bruce lifted his gaze from the road to the dash and pushed a button, "Go Alfred."

Suddenly the butler's face was projected on the screen, "Master Bruce, I've collected more information on Hans Aristov." Alfred replied shifting the papers in his hand, "Doctor Hans Aristov took the responsibility of Jokers personal physician 8 years ago. Only once did Quincy Sharp remove him from his patient, for one month."

"Why?" Bruce questioned, gazing intently at his destination. The institution was in sight, "What happened during that month?"

"As to why Sharp pulled him in the first place, I have not found anything on that matter. However… The two doctors assigned, quickly resigned. One was found in the nurse's office, on the floor, cradling doll in one hand and a large shard of glass in the other." Alfred briefly stopped to flip the page of his report, "The other committed suicide by jumping off the east corridor of the Institute."

Bruce's lips closed in a tight line, "Doesn't surprise me." He was angry. Joker, his archenemy, known for his contagious madness and sick, twisted mind games.  
_No doubt drove those innocent doctors to their wits end. He prayed on those who had inferior intelligence to his. Unfortunately, that included most of Gotham and what seems like all the doctors of Arkham. All he needed to do was make a suggestion of a 'way out' of the game. HIS game.  
_  
It sickened him, "I will be stopping by to speak with both Sharp and Joker." He said with a cold tone.

"Yes sir. Sharp is there this evening. Should you have further inquisitions"  
"Thank you Alfred. I'll be home shortly, this won't take long."

Alfred nodded and the transmission ended.

Meanwhile…

"**That wretched cunt**!" Quincy Sharp shrieked, tossing his brandy glass at the wall. His assistant stood shaking in fear in the doorway to his office.

"**Amanda**!"

She winced at the sound of her name, "M-mister S-sharp?"

"Get my **fuckin'** lawyer on the phone!" He turned toward her, face red, his brows drawn and mouth snared, "Get him on the phone and in my office tomorrow morning. As soon as the **fuckin' sun rises**!"

The assistant jumped at his tone, the way he emphasized his profanities, "Yes s-sir."  
She stood uncomfortably awaiting further instruction. She starred nervously down at the broken shards and stain that his high priced brandy had become. She immediately regretted delivering that particular envelope.

_What was inside of it? _She questioned,_What could have justified this type of rage?_

"Don't just stand there like a bloody idiot! Get something to clean that up." He growled.

Quickly she scrambled out of the office, flustered. She came back moments later with a damp paper towel, a roll of paper towels and a trash bin.

Sharp's eyes never leaving her figure, still infuriated. His fists clenched in balls at his waist, near drawing blood. He could feel a vein protruding from his forehead. He watched his assistant daintily knell down and start picking up the glass with her bare hands.

"And don't be getting blood on this carpet."

His assistant, Amanda had not been hired for her brains for sure. He often conversed amongst his guards about what else he could have her do. She was a delicious looking young woman. Her vibrant blonde hair pulled back in a neat pony tail. A deep shade of pink on her cheeks, nervous.  
Teeth often clutching her rosy bottom lip.  
Sharp felt his pulse slow, eyes glinting as they continued to scan her form. Her neck line delve deep into her chest where her two greatest assets sat. Her bosom was held squeezed in a blouse one size too small. His gaze trailed down to her petite waist. A fitted black, above the knee pencil skirt shaped her long bombshell legs. He caught his breath, and pulled on the collar of his grey pin-striped suit.

The rage from his unwelcomed delivery had subsided momentarily as his assist did the unthinkable.  
After peeling the pieces of glass from the floor, into the bin, she dropped her other leg and was on her hands and knees; scrubbing a paper towel deep into the carpet.  
His lips formed a small 'O' as he watched her buttocks wriggle. A low groan escaped his throat.

Amanda shifted uncomfortably, now fully aware of the pair of lecherous eyes behind her. Scared and embarrassed tears hid behind her lashes. She kept her head down to prevent her boss seeing her tortured face.

_Please someone interrupt his attention_She prayed.

Suddenly, answering her prayers, a guard's voice rang out beyond the door, interrupting their awkward silence.  
"Hey- Wait- You can't be here!"

Sharp's eyes were torn from his employee to the door as a tall dark figure erupted through the door. Quincy Sharp's fists clenched once more.

"Batman? What do I owe this **privileged**, **unannounced** visit?"


End file.
